The Labyrinth
by RavenQuill
Summary: Here's my version, beginning from Rick Riordan's reading of the first part of Chapter One. Percy must survive horrible empusai-vampire women, a fishing trip with his father, a love triangle, and the most hopeless of the Gods' domains: the Labyrinth.
1. IBTCS: Part 2

Hey, everyone! This is my first Percy Jackson fanfiction, but I think it's fairly accurate. It leaves off from RR's reading of the first chapter, which you can watch on his website or read here on fanfiction.

I don't own Percy, etc.

**Chapter 1**

I Battle The Cheerleading Squad: Part 2

As the kids filed into the auditorium for orientation and the teacher introductions began, I sat as low in my seat as possible and tried to locate the girl fate had unfairly tossed into my life. She was nowhere in my line of vision. When I had deemed the coast clear on my side of the auditorium, I silently agonized over the chances of something like this happening. To a normal person, not all that high. But to me? Pretty damn high. You know those weird pervert guys who stand on rooftops and toss water balloons at unsuspecting…_gifted_ women? Somewhere up there was someone who had a sick sense of humor, and that someone planned to toss a few doom-filled balloons at my unsuspecting demigod head every opportunity they got. All I could even hope for was to be able to roll with the punches when those times came.

I nearly flinched out of my seat and through the ceiling when the kid next to me tried to start up a conversation. I was still expecting the girl to pop up at any given moment. I hadn't had a normal conversation in a while, one about basketball and cheerleaders and stuff. Those things just didn't seem to hold any relevance to my life anymore. Chariot racing and forest combing, sure. The simple things? Not so much; it's hard to enjoy the simple things in life when the world seems to have stamped a sixteen-year expiration date on your forehead.

His friend on his other side commented on something, so he turned away from me, but he kept tossing me nervous looks. Although 5 10' is not exactly worthy of a defensive lineman, the guy was a lot shorter than me, maybe 5 3.' And I guess I looked a little touched. Everyone who's lived in New York knows that a slumped guy whose eyes keep darting back and forth is not exactly prime best friend material.

About fifteen minutes into the introductions I realized that, not only were kids no longer trying to talk to me, there were two to three empty seats between me and the remainder of the freshmen crowd on all four sides. Great, I thought. School hasn't even started and already it's gotten around that I'm mentally disturbed. And even worse: they might not be wrong.

Even though I knew it was risky -the frizzy girl could spot me- I chanced slipping out the back into a hallway to get some air. Forgive the pun, but I felt like a fish out of water. And Gods know _that_ is a pretty uncomfortable feeling. A couple days back, for the first time since I discovered my lineage as a son of Poseidon, my mom had decided to make a kind of shrimp stirfry. It was her boyfriend's favorite, and we went to an open air fish market for the things she would need. It was also a bit of an experiment to see if I'd be affected at all by it. We had barely passed the first counter, though, before I started to hear screams in my head. Horrible, agonized, _fishy_ screams. It sounded a bit like: '_No! What are you doing to my brother?! What are you doing to Santiago?! No! Stop! Not the boiling water! Please! You won't take me alive, you-' _gurgle gurgle

Yeah. I had staggered over to my mom, ashen-faced, and begged for pork chops.

I burst into a hallway who knows where and decided to listen to a CD with the headphones Blofis had gotten me for my birthday. He was a pretty cool guy and all, it had just been awkward having him around. Plus, it wasn't easy pretending to be normal. My mom had said I was no longer allowed to keep deadly bronze weapons in the hall closet, and I was beginning to run out of room underneath my bed.

All the walls of the school were covered in faded green wallpaper. It was a good school, an expensive school, and the nicest one I'd been to since Yancey had kicked me out. The floors were even polished hardwood instead of the usual indestructible checkered tile you saw in high schools. I sat down on a bench and tried not to imagine the distance flaming balls of green wallpaper would achieve should the building go up. Instead I listened to a Green Day CD Thalia had gotten me for my birthday. I tapped my thumbs and laughed out loud when I remembered the note that had come with the present and letter she'd sent:

_'Thalia, halfblood/huntress extraordinaire, improving America's taste in music one seaweed brain at a time.'_

I hadn't seen Thalia since she'd become a huntress, but she'd sent nearly a dozen letters to me, Grover, and Annabeth detailing fights against boars with poisoned horns, crocodile-chimeras, and featuring pickup lines she'd endured from drunken centaurs. Me and Annabeth would probably talk through the whole movie later, each hoping to surprise the other with a detail they might not have received in a letter. Annabeth… I felt my face get hot as I remembered what my mom had said to me in the car. Even though I knew no one was around, I automatically reached up with the hand that held my CD player to mess with my already messed hair, an action meant to distract from my blush.

I jumped when I heard whoosh! and weird grinding noise. At first I thought it was a sound effect added to the song, but the CD had stopped playing completely. I looked at the player to see what the problem was, and my eyes grew wide at what I found. A giant, sizzling hole was smoking in the dead center of the device. As I watched the melted remains of the incinerated CD drip from the hole and leave burn marks on the floor like acid, I felt immense gratitude towards Blowfish- er, Blofis. If it weren't for his gift, that hole could have easily been in my head.

I leapt up from the bench, pulling out Riptide as I did so. From what I could see there wasn't anyone in the hallway on either side of me, but that only made me feel worse. When I heard a voice, I spun around prepared to strike and found-

Um, a cheerleader?

"EEEK!" she screamed. "What, are you, like, in, like, the drama club, or something?! What do you think you're doing, freak?!" She was blonde, freckled, and 110 percent mortal. She looked from Riptide to me like I was some kind of psycho.

"Erm, yeah," I said, lowering my weapon. "I'm in the drama club. What did you think?"

She rolled her eyes. "I think you freshmen, like, get freakier every year! If it weren't for the fact that you were always trying to get out of orientation, we cheerleaders wouldn't have to patrol the hallways! Go back to the auditorium!" She snapped her fingers repeatedly under my nose, her long fingernails obviously fake. I imagined myself turning Riptide back into a pen and putting a giant ink blot onto her uniform. I wondered for a moment why the mist wasn't disguising my sword, but then I remembered the drama prop comment. To her, the sword probably looked like a cardboard cut-out, and she was scared regardless. I'd once seen a group of cheerleaders scatter like stampeding bulls when a miss-thrown football landed in their midst, so I wasn't altogether surprised.

She reached into a pink bag at her side and pulled out an equally pink cell phone just before it had started to buzz. Most teens have the ability to psychically predict when their phone is going to ring. Monsters could track them, so I didn't own one. My mom was convinced I'd become a zombie if I did.

"What?" she snapped into the phone. And then she got a floaty look on her face, and she spoke in a voice as sweet as expired milk mixed with chocolate syrup. "Oh, hey Davey! Sure I will! I love you too, woobums."

"Hey, you! New girl!" She spoke to a cheerleader behind me that I hadn't even noticed before. It was as she was one with the wallpaper. "Take this goon back to the auditorium. I'm going to go meet the quarterback, and he's going to ask me to the prom! I promise you!" And she floated off, gazing around as if she were a queen in her domain. Ugh.

I turned to the other girl, and my brain was immediately wiped of all thoughts. I just stared, she was so… I can't even explain. At first I thought she Aphrodite, but I realized she had a different feel about her. Aphrodite could make a guy feel like a complete idiot, bumbling and uncertain. This girl's presence made me feel at peace and confident, like a king who could handle anything. I even dropped my sword, wondering why a guy could ever need such a thing.

"Hello," she spoke, her voice wafting gently around me. It cleared away all my fears and stresses, including my worries about the prophesy. I stared into her pale, heart-shaped face. It was framed by long, wavy black hair, held back by small silver clips. She reminded me of the moon against the night sky, a sight that made me feel even more at ease, on account of the tides and being a son of the Sea God. I was completely surrounded by all the sensations that I liked: the smell of salt in the air, the sound of waves, and I could almost feel sand shifting beneath my shoes. It didn't even occur to me that these things weren't commonplace in a high school, I was so drowsy.

"Hi," I responded, my voice sounding very far away. I took a step towards her, though it was very difficult. My legs felt heavy for some reason.

"My name is Lamia. I'm supposed to take you back, but out here no one will see." She took a step towards me and more cool breezes filled with her scent swirled around me.

"See what?" I asked.

Quick as lightning she reached out with both hands, seizing my upper arms and pulling me towards her. And then, before I could even react, she kissed me. My first kiss, I guess, if you didn't could all those weird spin-the-bottle incidents in elementary and middle school. I'd always thought I'd be nervous, stepping on the girl's toes and all that, but I just closed my eyes and enjoyed the opportunity to run my fingers through her long, soft hair. I could feel my senses slipping from me. It was almost as if I was falling asleep… She pulled away for a second and whispered something so quietly I almost didn't catch it.

"Your destruction."

As she went on kissing me, my brain struggled to regain some small ounce of function. Destruction? I thought. Wait, isn't that bad? I tried feebly to break away, but I just didn't seem to have any strength left. She gripped my arms even tighter. Gone were the feelings of peace and safety. Instead, I was beginning to feel sick and increasingly weaker. I was having huge difficulty piecing thoughts together, though one managed to break through. Annabeth…

"Hey! What're you- Ew!" A voice on the other side of the corridor spoke. Lamia tossed me away from her, and I landed hard on the floor. I was feeling feeble and nauseous, but already I could tell my strength was returning. I sat up, panting hard because I hadn't breathed in over a minute, and thoughts began clicking again. Lamia was the one who had attacked me! She was a monster!

Lamia bristled, turning to the girl who had seen us, and let forth a terrible, inhuman shriek that caused the girl to jump, and she dropped her tattered Harry Potter book on the floor. The girl had frizzy red hair, holey jeans, and a tattered Harvard sweatshirt.


	2. IBTCS: Part 3

Quick explanation: Empusai is a form of vampire/demoness that would seduce men and drain their life-forces. Lamia, according to accurate mythology, was not an empusai, but I loved the name and incorporated it.

**Chapter 1**

I Battle The Cheerleading Squad: Part 3

Rachael Elizabeth Dare looked from Lamia to where I lay, sprawled on the floor, and then back to Lamia. I figured she must have wondered from the group as I had, hoping to find a secluded spot somewhere to read her book. Having heard voices, she'd wandered over to where Lamia and were, interrupting the former's attempt to kill me. Rachael's intrusion had saved my life -Lamia had lost interest in me for the time being- but I had a horrible feeling in my gut that it had cost her her's. I thought it strange that, having learned nothing up to that point but the girl's name, I now knew her fatal flaw: curiosity.

There was an odd silence as each girl (erm, rather one girl and… something else) seemed to stare each other down. Lamia's glare could've knocked mountains over, senseless, and, weirdly enough, this mortal girl seemed to stand her ground. But then Lamia began to change, and the possible conflict no longer looked evenly matched. Gone were beautiful girl and starchy uniform. In its place was a horrible, emaciated gray-skinned woman with stringy, lifeless white hair and swirling red pits for eyes. From her boney neck hung a chain with a large flat disk, and the heart of it was also swirling, but in shades of green.

I had a horrible feeling that that pendant caged whatever power Lamia had stolen from me.

I looked towards Rachael, and it struck me again how unusual this Harvard regalia-clad girl was. Yes, she was terrified, a normal reaction; I could tell by the way her hands were shaking, clenched tightly at her sides. But, she didn't seem at all surprised by the situation, as if it were both unfortunate and perfectly normal. And she didn't run, because there was no where to run. Her eyes blazed with an absurdly courageous defiance.

Lamia charged. She moved with a quick but grotesque, limping gait, and I noticed beneath her robes the hooves of a donkey. She raised her ruler-length, dagger-sharp fingernails in an attempt to poke holes in my rescuer, but, at the last second, Rachael gave a surprised squeak and dived out of the way. I tried to crawl near riptide where it lay several feet from me, but my muscles felt as if they had been liquefied.

I looked to the battle: Lamia was trying to incinerate the poor girl using a variety of clawing and flaming-eye attacks. Rachael managed to dodge a particularly nasty assault, and Lamia got a water fountain instead. Its crushed encasement caused the water pressure to build up, and the entire fountain exploded. The water that rained down went unnoticed by the monster and girl who were currently locked in battle, but I was revived enough by the droplets to crawl the rest of the way to retrieve my weapon.

Now, how would I get the monster to come my way?

Lamia was becoming enraged. Apparently, there was nothing she hated more than being interrupted while she was sucking the life from her victims, and she wanted to make this girl pay. She lent forth an agonized roar as Rachael dodged another assault and whacked her medallion with the blown-top of the water fountain she had been using as a shield. A surge of green erupted from the dented disk like a solar flare, and I felt a surge of strength go through me. Getting an idea, I gestured wildly at Rachael, and when our eyes met, she understood.

As Rachael began to dash towards me, Lamia in her wake, I gritted my teeth and braced myself; I would only get one chance. Once Rachael reached me, she vaulted up over my head as I ducked, the bottoms of her sneakers grazing the top of my scalp. Summoning all my strength to move fast, I maneuvered on one knee and plunged riptide into the monster's medallion.

The agonized last screams of all of Lamia's past victims erupted from the halved charm in a single, pain-filled torrent. A bright stream of life bled from the disintegrating monster, and I felt completely revived as the last remnants of Lamia scattered in a sudden breeze.

I got to my feet, turning to the girl who stood beside me and trying to think of something to say, when more inhuman screeches filled my ears. We both whipped around to the sight of more cheerleaders transforming into life-sucking demons, and they blocked all the ways back to the auditorium.

"Come on!" I shouted to Rachael, grabbing her arm and bolting towards a side door that looked as if it led into the basement. I couldn't kill all those monsters on my own and get Rachael safely back to the auditorium, so I had no choice but to escape with her in tow.

We ran panting down the stairs into a stuffy and stifling basement. After barricading the door with some gym mats and filing cabinets, I located our escape route: a small window to the outside paced above a cluttered workbench. We jumped up onto the table, me cupping my hands so the girl could step up. After she got through, she gave me a hand as I scrambled up after her. Then we bolted down the street as fast as our legs would carry us.


	3. Love Is Definitely Not Demigod Resistant

Hi! Thanks to all who reviewed! And sorry to all of those who wanted to but couldn't because my anonymous review tab was disabled. It's enabled now, so, hopefully, all is fine and dandy.

This chapter, for an interesting change of pace, is told from Annabeth's POV. To all of you Percy fans: don't worry; he'll be back next chapter. It's basically her brooding so that everyone can relax and get into all the details of the story.

**Chapter 2**

Love Is Definitely Not Demigod-Resistant

I was about an hour early, I realized, as the cab dropped me off at the movie theatre. Well, there's only so much time a girl can spend reading in a hotel room when she's about to see her best friend and the only real home she'd ever had within the upcoming twenty-four hours.

Sitting on a bench outside the theatre (I would buy my ticket after Percy arrived and we both decided on the film), I tried to relax and enjoy the electric, Manhattan atmosphere. I took out my well-loved copy of the Odyssey. The cover was frayed but still beautiful with its blue and silver leafing, and I remembered the day Chiron gave it to me. It was my eighth birthday, and the first birthday I had celebrated at camp.

Nestled comfortably between pages 200 and 201 was a contrastingly new Polaroid that functioned as a bookmark. My eyes automatically shifted from side to side in search of prying eyes, even though I knew my family members were all at home, in California. I opened the book to look down at the photo for the millionth time since Percy's mother had sent it to me, without Percy's knowledge of course.

It was a picture of Percy, taken about three months prior. He was sitting on a park bench, grinning crazily for no apparent reason other than to be silly. Percy, and every other demigod for that matter, very rarely allowed himself to relax, so to have captured his expression was very precious indeed.

For some reason, looking at the picture always caused me to think of how much Percy differed from Luke. Luke was blonde and of an outdoorsy attractiveness, while Percy took a great deal after his mom in facial structure. With high cheekbones and fine-arched eyebrows, Percy was of a gentler, more dramatic appearance. In the picture, the wind had tousled his thick, longish dark hair, and it was hanging done in front of his eyes. It was his eyes that kept him from being just average looking. He had the largest, most fiercely beautiful eyes of any boy I'd ever seen. They were a green that always matched the ocean and his mood: dark, brooding blue-green; sad, soft gray-green; cheerful moss green; fierce, and almost black-green. Many people claimed that their eyes' color changed with mood, or the color of clothing that they wore, but Percy's were the only ones that I knew of that literally did so. Sometimes, if there was a storm taking place at sea, you could watch the swirls of color crash against one another within his irises.

I admitted to myself that I missed him, and was looking forward to the first normal, teen outing we would have together, and that most teens would have taken for granted because they didn't have the worries of a demigod.

I looked at the picture again, and remembered something Chiron had told me in confidence about former Cabin Three campers (he didn't think it appropriate to discuss Percy's deceased siblings with him until his life was no longer endangered by prophesies). He'd said he'd once had a camper named Jasper, a son of Poseidon before the pact of WWII, and that he and Percy looked nearly exactly alike, although complete opposites in personality (Jasper had been very timid). All campers within the same cabin tended to favor one another in looks: Demeter, willowy; Hephaestus, stern; Ares, big; Poseidon, brooding. Chiron said that the personality differences between Percy and Jasper were a fine example of how sharing blood does not define who you are. Only you can determine what is set into the stone.

Chiron had also laughed, stating that Cabin Three campers were by far the most emotional, tending to let loose amounts of rage rivaling even that of the Ares kids. He said that it was lucky that Poseidon drew the sea, for he would have made an even more horrible God of the Underworld than Hades, if that were at all possible.

I thought of my mother, too, with all her wisdom and beauty, and how she would never let go of her temper in any form of reckless, destructive rampage. She would bide her time, plan efficiently, and hit her opponent where she had deduced it would hurt the worst. I feared for Percy, whom I could tell my mother wasn't too fond of and was far too young to be decimated on the spot.

This is why we weren't on a date, why we could never go on a date. Our parents were never going to get along, and it had ended the life of many a young halfblood, trying to defy what was written in the stars. It didn't work for Helen and Paris, and it didn't work for Romeo and Juliet, and it was certainly not going to work for a halfblood as unlucky in love as me.


	4. My Accomplice Is A Hairnet Thief

I'm on a bit of a roll this week, getting chapters out! You don't know how amazing this is for me, considering I'm such a horribly lazy updater and definitely deserving of a good stoning (the medieval-punishing kind, not the Sigmund Freud kind).

Erm, I don't own Percy, Harry Potter, or Sigmund Freud.

**Chapter 3**

My Accomplice Is A Hairnet Thief

We both collapsed on the bench of the nearest bus stop, which wasn't too far away considering it was a school we'd just escaped from. It was the first opportunity I'd had to speak to Rachael since we left the building. I needed to give her instructions urgently, but I waited for her to catch her breath first. She had yet to say anything since our near demise, and I'd anticipated the moment when she would drop to her knees, shocked and frightened and refusing to go on, but it'd never happened. She'd followed my every direction and instruction, despite the fact that she'd seemed like a stubborn individual when we'd first met. I hoped that obedience would hold out as I guided her for the last time.

"Okay," I said, turning to her. She looked up, eyes wide and unblinking. "First of all: you're not crazy. Yes, that was a monster, and yes, you might see more in your lifetime, but you probably won't have to deal them."

She nodded, gaping, and I took that as a sign to continue.

"Second of all: not everyone can see them. You are special in that aspect, but that doesn't make you weird," I added, thinking of my mom. If Sally Jackson was weird for seeing things the way that they were, then the rest of the world be damned. Rachael nodded again, so again, I continued.

"And, lastly, there is a bus coming in approximately five minutes to this stop." I had already checked the schedule posted above the bench. "I will stay here to see you safely on, and then you'll probably never see me again, or those monsters. They were after me, not you." I finished, taking a deep breath so that she could digest the info. She didn't nod; instead, she stared off into space, concentrating deeply on a dilemma in her head. I recognized the intelligent, cognitive expression she wore as the same one my mom had every time I bought her Evil level Sudoku puzzles.

Rachael spoke for the first time since we'd started running, and whatever it was I'd been expecting, it wasn't what she said.

"Take me with you."

I blinked at her. "Wha…"

"Take me with you," she repeated. It was my turn to gape.

"But, if you come with me, those monsters will be on your tail for miles! You can still escape, so why would you want to come with me, a complete stranger? For all you know, I could be a lunatic." At least, that's what the papers tended to say every time I made the news.

"The thing is that I think those… _things_ might be after _me," _she said, shivering in the hot mid-day sun.

"No, they were-" I shook my head, but she interrupted me.

"Just hear me out for a second. I'm about ninety-nine percent sure I've seen that girl-thing before at least a dozen times this week, following me around. Not just that, but the shadows, everywhere I went, seemed to… _move_. And, I have horrible nightmares of un-seeable things, screeching and hissing at me like that monster did." She paused, paling as she seemed to remember the nightmares that sounded very similar to the ones I had. "Why else would she have attacked me the way that she did?" she concluded.

I was shocked. Could this girl be a demigod? I asked myself. All I knew is that, if she was indeed something special, I needed to get her to Chiron. Arriving at camp alone would determine if she was completely mortal, for, if that was the case, she wouldn't even be able to get beyond the border barriers.

"Before you throw yourself into something as dangerous as following me to a place I haven't even told you about yet, you need to seriously ask yourself whether or not there's a good reason monsters would be after you," I said, trying to be Annabeth-reasonable. I was skeptical: all the reasons she had given me thus far could be linked to an over-active imagination, which I felt there was a good chance this girl had. If I was going to take her across the county, I wanted to be sure I wasn't endangering her life, and mine, for nothing.

She swallowed. "There's a good reason," she said guardedly, as if unwilling to share it with me. I waited for her to explain when she suddenly lifted up her left forearm. She pulled down the worn, lumpy sleeve to expose her bare arm.

Clamped tightly to her skin was sparkling, silver, net-like object. It looked a bit like a hairnet, wrapped so tightly around her arm that it was cutting in slightly, and embedded into its threads were gems that glittered with an ethereal luminosity far exceeding that of mortal diamonds. I reached out cautiously to touch it with my index finger and felt a familiar feeling of overwhelming power, almost to point that I thought I might be reduced to ashes if I lingered too long in contact with it. I also felt a familiar feeling of dread, for I knew then three things:

One, this object belonged to a God.

Two, Gods do not take lightly to their possessions being misplaced, even if it's their own fault (trust me; I've had personal experience).

And three, I was in far more danger being with this girl than she was being with me.


	5. I Take Love Magic To The Movies

Thanks so much to: Dreamgirl555, hogwartsgirl52, LiNkInPaRkFaN017, Silver15, Stardawn, butterflybookmark, Ivyshadow, Jordin Brightly, Joe Schmoe, and Jelly 1029 for your wonderful reviews! You've really kept me going!

**Chapter 4**

I Take Love Magic To The Movies

"How long have you had this? Where in Gods' names did you get it in the first place?" I demanded of Rachael. She had a guilty expression on her face.

"A few months after we ran into each other at the Hoover Dam, I was waiting for a bus that would take me to an airport where I would leave for Denver and visit my aunt. But the bus was an hour late. I needed to get to the airport soon or I would miss my flight. Just then, a woman pulled up in a limo and offered to give me a lift." I resisted the urge to groan. A limo? I had a good guess where the story was going…

"Was the woman beautiful?" I asked. Rachael nodded.

"The most beautiful woman I'd ever seen, though I have trouble remembering what she looked like… I don't even know how she knew I needed a ride, but I was too much in awe of her to realize that it's very stupid to get in a car with a stranger. All I could think about was how much I wanted to be like her, to be that beautiful." I saw the faraway look in her eyes and understood that, as hard as it is to be a guy, it must be equally awkward to be a girl. Pressure to be beautiful, and all that stuff. I wondered if it was an issue with all girls, even Annabeth. Annabeth's down-to-earth nature was the exact opposite to Rachael's dreamy, out-there personality. Annabeth wouldn't have admitted to wanting to be like Aphrodite if I'd held her down and threatened to force-feed her hummus. I was broken out of my revelation on the female condition as Rachael spoke again.

"She said I could pay her back for getting a ride, that I could hold onto something for her." She held up her arm, and the netted strands glittered in the sunlight. "She said that it was magic, and every night she wrapped her hair in it and it would smell of the most powerful love magic. But she wrapped and tied it around my arm instead, because it was supposed to kill anyone who wore it properly other than her." Since Rachael didn't have any God blood, that made sense. So, the monsters were hunting her in both dreams and waking hours because they were mistaking her for a halfblood? A mortal, carrying God magic like that around? No wonder. And, after months of searching, it seemed the monsters had caught up with her scent. Having me nearby probably hadn't helped much, either.

"What else did she say? Did she tell you why she wanted you to keep it for her?" I asked.

"No, she only said that someone would show up who could take me to someone else to have it removed," she said shrugging.

"I guess that's my cue," I muttered. "But what's she planning?" I asked myself, trying not to remember my last encounter with Aphrodite. Rachael noticed the recognition on my face.

"Do you know who, and what, she is?" she asked. "I didn't want to believe in the magic or anything, but I couldn't make myself forget those skeletons, and, no matter how hard I try, I can't get this thing off." She looked depressed.

"Yeah, I know who she is, but explanations will have to wait until later," I said. I got to my feet, pulling Rachael up as I did so. "Monsters are after you, and I'm sure they wouldn't mind getting at me, too. We need to scram."

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"Falls Landing Theatre," I said.

"A movie theatre?" she said. The look on her face told me she'd expected someplace far more extreme, like a CIA base in Botswana.

"Yeah," I said. "It's a pit stop. We need reinforcements."

I really hoped Annabeth wouldn't mind me bringing another girl along on our not-date.

(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((O)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

It took an hour of alternating between running, walking, and hiding from seemingly harmless cheerleaders in nearby barber shops and Chinese restaurants, but we finally made it to the theatre. It was about an hour before I had agreed to meet Annabeth there, so you can imagine my relief when I saw a blonde figure sitting outside the front entrance, gazing into a book with a level of concentration only Annabeth herself could achieve.

"Annabeth!" I shouted, panting and waving frantically. She jumped up from the bench, and, as I jogged the last fifteen feet between us, I could see a myriad of emotions flash across her face. First surprise, then, for some reason, embarrassment, then happiness, and then, when she spotted Rachael, annoyance.

"Percy, who-?" she asked, looking at Rachael and almost seeming to stare her down. Rachael challenged her with a defiant look of her own, though for the love of all that was holy I couldn't figure out what the problem was.

"No time for that. Monsters-" I waved a hand Rachael's way, "-after her. We need to get her to Chiron." Annabeth's eyes widened.

"Is she a halfblood?" Rachael gave us both confused looks at the word.

"I don't think so, but something equally weird is going on. If we don't help her, she doesn't stand a chance."

"Okay." Annabeth set her jaw, assuming her duty as a protector and warrior. She understood that, as far as monsters were concerned, we needed to move fast; explanations would have to wait.

But I really wish haling the Cab of Damnation wasn't her idea of a logical first move.

If Rachael had thought that there was nothing left in the world that could possibly surprise her, it was not meant to be. She looked ready to have a heart attack when that cab, driven by the Gray Sisters, banged out of nowhere in front of us on the pavement where Annabeth had thrown the drachma.

We ushered our shaken party member into the cab, and Annabeth told them where to drop us off.

"Ah ha!" one of the sisters shrieked, recognizing Annabeth's voice. "You two trouble-makers again! Thank the Gods you at least had the decency to leave that _thing_ at home!" I tried to ignore this jab at my brother, because the last time I'd been in their cab I had sorta threatened to throw their one eye out the window.

"We need our bags," Annabeth said, all business. One of the sisters grunted, searching with her fingers on the dash for a single button that read "Trunk." When she pushed it, the entire car lurched up. It settled back down, heavier than before, and I turned to Annabeth.

"We didn't have any bags."

"I know. They were just magically deposited from your apartment and my hotel room into the trunk."

Hm, I thought. It really is a convenient taxi service. Annabeth turned back to me as the car started winding its way through Manhattan, the progress much smoother than last time considering the sister driving had the eye this time.

"Now, will you please explain why we're going to camp right away?"

I figured right then was as good a time as any to explain the situation to both girls. To Rachael I explained halfbloods, the existence of Greek Gods, and Chiron, and to Annabeth I explained Rachael. While I talked, I kept a death-grip on the seat as we endured what was both figuratively and literally the cab ride from Hell.

I just finished as the Big House came into view, and we and our bags were promptly ejected from the vehicle.


	6. Paul, Sleeping Beauty, & The Terminator

This is one of my longest chapters yet! I hope everyone likes! I'm open to suggestions, and this chapter is told from **Annabeth's POV.** If you haven't noticed the pattern yet, I like to keep Percy's chapters filled with action and Annabeth's filled with emotion and development between the characters. Enjoy!

**Chapter 5**

Paul, Sleeping Beauty, And The Terminator

I admit, when I first saw Rachael, I was _not_ pleased. I tried to tell myself that I was just mad at this stranger for imposing their company upon what would have been a relaxing, personal engagement between me and my best friend. I tried to convince my agitated, thumping heart that I would have felt the same if it'd been Thalia or Grover, but…I still had this cold feeling at the bottom of my chest. It was a feeling I got whenever I was trying to lie to myself. 'Lying is the bane of wisdom,' my mother once said to me and my siblings during the yearly fieldtrip to Olympus. 'It is to force false information upon others and oneself.' Ugh. Whatever I was feeling, it couldn't mean good things for my current relationship with Percy.

When Percy told me the situation at the theatre, I had responded as a warrior and daughter of Athena ought. But, as we began our ascension of Halfblood Hill and Percy, skin cleared, an inch taller, and bathed in golden light (to my immense relief, I found the cause of that last image to be sunlight reflecting off the golden fleece that protected Thalia's tree, and not my own imagination), I began to feel more reluctant to allow this girl to pass the borders into my home and into my life. And Percy's, for that matter.

She was definitely not a halfblood, for she couldn't get through the barriers on the first try.

"I, Perseus Jackson, give you permission to enter camp," Percy said. Sure enough, she got through. I was disappointed, though: it was strangely satisfying watching her stumble in place, confused, like a lost soul on a weird, grassy treadmill.

Chiron, who always knew when someone was passing over the borders, walked out to meet us halfway from the Big House. Or trotted is a better word, for he was displaying his centaur form. Apparently, this was just too much in one day for the new girl, because she crumpled to the ground in a dead faint, and I felt horrible for being so inwardly, if not outwardly, cold towards her. She'd been in battle, run across Manhattan, gotten into a cab made of smoke and driven by undead prophets, all while enduring monster-filled nightmares and a God's burden over many months prior. It was a lot for a halfblood to deal with over the course of a lifetime, let alone an untrained mortal girl in one afternoon.

Chiron burst into action like a top form mother hen. After checking the girls pulse and temperature, and interrogating me and Percy as to who she was, why she was there, and what had happened, Chiron thought it safe to carry her the rest of the way up to the big house. Me and Percy followed quickly behind, Percy looking immensely surprised and concerned.

"I don't understand," he said, shaking his head. "She was taking in everything so well. I've seen this girl outsmart skeletons carrying hand guns without breaking a sweat. Why would the sight of Chiron do that to her?"

"Stress doesn't come and go. It builds, layering on top of itself. It can make even the toughest individuals crack," I said, shrugging. He smiled at me.

"I suppose it's only a matter of time before we and everyone in this camp crack, huh?"

"Not possible," I said, grinning. "I am infinitely tough, Seaweed Brain." This felt good, relaxing. It felt the way being with Percy was supposed to feel.

"Awfully sure of ourselves, aren't we?" He countered, raising his eyebrows.

"I wouldn't say it if it weren't true," I said, raising my eyebrows as well. "As a very famous half-brother of mine once said, 'I cannot tell a lie.' As Percy laughed and we ran the last stretch towards the Big House, I felt that cold feeling again, just beneath my racing heart.

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Even though he was worried, Percy knew nothing about healing and left Rachael in my and Chiron's hands, lest he just get in the way. When Rachael was settled, I found him sitting on the stretch window seat of Chiron's parlor, looking out at the grounds. They were bathed in the beautiful, red glow of a fading afternoon sun, but he didn't seem to really see them. He had a pensive look on his face.

He turned at the sound of my footsteps and smiled. "Hey. Is she okay?"

"Yep," I said, sitting down next to him. "Chiron's seeing to her right now. I think she was just suffering from an information overload." I paused, feeling worried. "Are you?"

He looked surprised by the question. "Yeah. I am. I was just thinking… about my mom, and how when she comes to get me, I won't be there. Again." He sighed. "She'll have to lie to her boyfriend again, just to cover for me." I had never heard Percy talk about his mom's boyfriend before; it had just never come up. Regardless, I chose my words carefully.

"It's never easy for parents who have halfbloods for kids. But it does get a little simpler once the truth is out, if the step-parent accepts the halfblood. Fewer lies to maintain. The greatest hurdle-" I tried to deliver this info gently, "-is for the halfblood to accept the new addition."

Percy nodded, a faraway look in his eyes.

"I do accept Paul, as he is. I just have trouble accepting the life that comes with him, because, once I do, there's no turning back." He took a deep breath before continuing, looking a little pale. "Sometimes I just want to scream at whatever force it is out there that's keeping me and my mom from my dad, and demand to know why that life was never good enough. I want to know why I can't live normally and freely. I want to know whatever it is out there, whether it's Fate or time or something else, that forces even the Gods and Titans to bow to it. I feel like I'm a small pawn against it. It's a losing battle, and it hurts."

He took another breath, turning away from me as if embarrassed by how much he'd let go.

"I understand," I said, and it was an understatement. I so truly, deeply understood, as most halfbloods would have. He turned back to me and grinned, the sight making my heart nearly flip over and fall into a faint like Rachael.

"Yeah, I know. That's why I said it." He suddenly looked a little drawn. "You're probably the only person I would have said all that to," he said, quiet and breathless. He leaned towards me slowly, closing his eyes as if tired. Oh, my Gods.

Before I could think coherently and logically to determine a good response, I found myself leaning forward slowly as well. What are you doing?! I asked myself, enraged. It's not as if you… One half of my brain ignored the other. My body moved on its own, my head tilting at a very specific angle.

But rather than tilting his head to meet my mine, he just kept going. Eventually, he face-planted right into my shoulder and remained motionless.

"What… the Hades?" I said aloud. Noticing the steady rise and fall of Percy's back as he breathed, I came to a very humbling and mortifying conclusion: He hadn't been trying to kiss me; he'd been falling asleep!

"Um, Percy?" I said, shaking his shoulder in an attempt at rousing him. This was getting a little awkward. Perfect clichéd, movie moment: terminated. Massacred to the point of unrecognizable.

When he didn't move, I began to feel a flicker of fear in my heart. Grabbing his shoulders and easing him down onto the seat, I tried tapping his face and calling his name again, both to no avail. There were bluish shadows under his eyes, and his face was too pale to be natural.

"Chiron!" I called, feeling a touch panicky. "I think there's something seriously wrong with Percy!" Chiron hustled into the room, carrying a bowl of the Gods' healing poultice diluted with water. Considering it was only used for open wounds, I wondered why he brought it.

Giving Percy a once-over, he told me to chill, though not in those exact words.

"What is plaguing Percy is the same thing that is plaguing our friend in there." He gestured toward the door of the room in which Rachael slept. He began checking Percy for marks of any kind. As he lifted Percy's sleeves, I gasped when I saw the deep claw marks on both of his upperarms, not permitted to bleed freely due to a gray film that was covering them.

"They are the claw marks of an empusai," he said, cleaning away the gray film with a cloth doused in poultice. "This venom-like substance is like a sleeping draught and has some delayed effects once it works it way through the bloodstream, like making a person sleep for a bit. It works even if the monster has been destroyed, which is one of the ways an empusai is so unusual. That girl had similar scratches on her legs and face." I blushed when I realized the implications of Percy coming in contact with an empusai. As if reading my thoughts, Chiron gave me a sympathetic smile.

"Don't worry, child. Percy and the girl will wake by tomorrow. And when they do, I expect a far more detailed explanation as to what's going on." I nodded, dumfounded. Even though I knew there were bigger issues at hand, all I could think about were my conflicting emotions. Why would I have let Percy to kiss me in the first place? And why did I feel so disappointed? They seemed like simple questions, but for all my wisdom I couldn't find the answers.


	7. I Trade In My Island For A Fortress

Percy's POV. Thanx to all who reviewed! :)

**Chapter 6**

I Trade In My Island For A Fortress

I slept deeper than I'd ever slept before. It seemed like an eternity that my mind was wafting from dream to bizarre, random dream. One dream had me racing along the track against a bus filled with tree naiads. Aphrodite kept trying to give me a lift in her limo to the finish line, but Ares was driving and would speed away, laughing maniacally, every time I came close to the vehicle.

In another dream, I was an inch tall-gym teacher trying to introduce myself onstage during orientation. The problem was, no matter how I hard I tried, I couldn't make myself be heard over the sound of Greenday playing live on the stage behind me. It didn't help that the auditorium full of booing Thalias kept throwing dodge balls at me, either.

The third dream disturbed me the most by far. I was standing on a rock. The rock was like a small island, maybe five feet by five, and it sat in the middle of a black, churning sea. All around me was thick gray fog. To my right, the fog began to clear, and I could see a figure standing on a similar rock maybe fifteen feet away. I gaped when I saw that it was Annabeth.

She stood there, shoulders straight, and looking me right in the eyes just as Annabeth always did. It struck me not for the first time how beautiful she was: Her eyes matched the surrounding fog and the foam of the dark sea, and her golden hair fell in bouncing strands on her tan shoulders. She wore a simple Greek robe that matched her eyes. But there was something else, something that seemed out of place…

Tied around her left forearm was the pink scarf of Aphrodite we had found at water world in Denver. The ends of it wafted in a breeze I could not feel.

Suddenly, to my left, the fog drifted again. There, relaxed upon a pedestal of her own, was Rachael. Rather than standing at attention, she had elected to sit cross-legged on the edge of her rock. She wasn't as beautiful as Annabeth, but she wore a dress like something out of a fantasy that my own imagination could never achieve. The colors seemed to fade in and out in pleasing ways to the senses like Aphrodite herself, and holding back her hair were the beautiful chains that had imprisoned her for so many months. She had the Harry Potter book in her lap and was tearing out pages of it to make the tiny paper ships she was sailing my way. Every time she sailed a new ship she would grin bashfully at me, sometimes shyly avoiding my gaze, and then resume her project.

I wanted to get them to safety, for I could feel a sea storm coming, but in trying to decide who to go to, I felt torn. Rather than going right or left, I stumbled forward into the water.

But this wasn't normal water. Normal water I could control. In this water I sank at an alarming speed, faster than if I'd been falling through the air, and all around me was darkness. Darkness. Darkness. And then, a darkness I recognized to be the inside of my eyelids. I opened my eyes.

A normal person might be alarmed at the sight of a Cyclops standing at the foot of their bed, grinning like a small child at Christmas, but this was a normal event in the life of Percy Jackson. Instead, I felt elated.

"Tyson!" I exclaimed, jumping up from my bed and getting wrapped in the biggest hug of my life. Imagine a bear hug with a real bear, and you've almost got a Tyson hug. I didn't care that he was very nearly crushing my ribs; I was just happy to see him.

"Tyson," I gasped once he'd released me. "When did you get here?"

"Just now!" He beamed at me. "I arrived just as Pony bring you in here. You were snoring," he said, nodding very seriously.

"Brought me in-" I looked around and realized I was in Cabin Three, Poseidon's cabin. With the exception of a massive carpet bag with a pony-and-rainbows print (and what looked suspiciously like a peanut butter sandwich sticking out of it) sitting near the next bunk, everything looked exactly as I'd remembered it. Although, for some reason, I couldn't remember having walked into the cabin. Huh, that's weird, I thought. I remembered fighting Lamia and Rachael fainting, but everything after that was fuzzy.

"Wow," I said, scratching my head. "I guess I must of fallen asleep in Chiron's parlor." I turned my attention back to Tyson, a grin back on my face. "How long are you staying?"

"All summer!" he declared joyously. I received another hug, feeling pretty buoyant myself. I'd missed my bigger-younger brother terribly since he'd gone to work in the forges and was ecstatic to have him back.

"Come on," I said as I threw on some clean clothes. "Let's go check on someone up at the Big House before breakfast."

Tyson nodded vigorously before following me out the cabin door, humming and skipping in my wake.

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When I stepped out onto the grounds, I stopped in my tracks, nearly getting bowled over by Tyson in doing so.

Camp was like a fortress. Each cabin had fire-resistant, stone walls with arrow knocking pits surrounding them. The rooftops were covered in layers of barbed wire with the exception of a few archer stands and watch towers that could only be accessed from inside the cabins. Large, metal poles were stuck in a circular formation around the encampment, and I would later learn from Beckendorf that they generated Greek fire. Most of the camp was at breakfast, but the few campers patrolling were decked out in full Greek armor, and they nodded at me as I passed.

Camp was obviously anticipating the first great battle of the war very soon.


	8. Keeping Myself And The Muffin Intact

You guys give such awesome reviews, and I'm eternally grateful!

**Chapter 7**

Keeping Myself And The Muffin Intact

I wasn't sure as to whether or not Chiron and Annabeth would be at the Big House instead of breakfast, but they were both there along with, to my great surprise, Mr. D.

The wine God lazed about on the porch next to Chiron, both seated around their usual pinochle table, though neither held a hand of cards. Chiron was leaning back in his wheelchair facade, hands clasped in front of his face pressing lightly to his pursed lips. It was a rare expression I'd seen him wear during his teaching days whenever a fascinating dilemma, neither bad nor precisely good, presented itself to him. Mr. D was mildly swishing and sniffing his diet Coke as one might savor a glass of wine, and while to an outsider his expression would have appeared to be one of outstanding boredom, I'd been on the receiving end of those looks often enough to notice the flicker of mild interest in his ancient eyes. Mr. D had been yawning at the most recent Gods' Council to discuss the upcoming war, so if something had his attention, much less something happening at camp, it had to be big.

"Ah, hello Percy. Sleep well?" Chiron said as I bounded up the porch steps. I could still see the cogs turning rapidly behind his smiling eyes. I nodded in response to his question, and for a second it seemed as if Chiron was amused by something, but that thought vanished as soon as Mr. D spoke.

"Well, I see you've returned to cause more trouble. And not only that, but you've brought the Cyclops and a Tartarus-knows-what that's sitting in that sick room to do it for you." He finally took a sip of the diet coke only to realize that the can was empty.

I felt my fingers twitch as I resisted the urge to clench my fists in anger. I hated it when Mr. D blamed me for things that were out of my control, and now he was making Tyson, who had ventured on into the house in search of Annabeth, appear unwelcome in a camp he had helped save. In my opinion, Tyson deserved to be there more than Mr. D himself.

I was all ready to say something smart-alecky, but then I remembered the service Mr. D had done me when I'd been trying to rescue Annabeth. I'm a lot of things, but I'm not disloyal or ungrateful.

"Rachael is just a normal, mortal girl who got caught up in a one-in-a-million circumstance," I said casually, hands in my pockets. Mr. D snorted.

"Good luck proving that mortal bit," he said as a fresh can fell out of nowhere. I was taken aback, turning to Chiron for an explanation. He sighed as if the upcoming task would be arduous.

"Rachael isn't mortal. Although" he held up a hand as I tried to speak, "-neither is she a god or demigod. She has all the characteristics of a mortal: no particular gifts, no special blood or physical attributes, and no conspicuous mannerisms." Chiron paused, choosing his words carefully. "I –and Mr. D as well, for that matter- are immortal, and so impervious to time's confines that we can very literally feel you, and other mortals, aging before us. Rachael has a mortal body, and yet it is not aging."

"So, is she like one of Artemis's hunters?" I asked, my mind whirling.

Chiron shook his head. "Even the hunters age within, taking on a quality of timelessness from the moment they become immortal." I remembered how calm Bianca DiAngelo became after her initiation into the hunters.

Chiron shook his head, perplexed. "But Rachael feels time normally, and she responds to the world around her normally. She truly believes she has lived and grown fifteen years, and as far as I know, she isn't wrong. But now she has stopped aging completely, even mentally. My best guess is that the child is cursed."

"By who?" I asked.

"_Whom_," Chiron said, forever a teacher. "And I don't know."

"The silver net!" I exclaimed, the word curse striking a chord, but Chiron shook his head.

"I'd been planning on interrogating you and Annabeth once you'd wakened, but when this issue presented itself I got all the information I could from Annabeth and the girl. The diadem has been removed, and, while I have no idea what means Aphrodite meant to achieve by having the girl come here, it is nothing more than what the Love Goddess claimed it to be." I wilted, unhappy at how everything always seemed to become so complicated.

"Do they know?" I asked, meaning Rachael and Annabeth.

Chiron nodded. "It was inevitable, considering Rachael was the one I was examining and Annabeth was the one assisting me. Don't worry child," he soothed. "This evening the girl will seek the oracle, if she should so choose, and all will go on from there. And, if you'll excuse us, Mr. D and I are already late to do the breakfast announcements." Maybe I was overreacting, but I was shocked that he could just leave the problem pillowed by the sentiment 'Come what may.'

I was about to ask all the questions still buzzing in my head, but just then the screen door banged open with amazing force. Tyson reached out and yanked me into the building by the back of my shirt. He didn't mean any harm by it –I could tell by the way he was grinning as he led me to the sick room- but Tyson just couldn't understand why I would want to talk to the activities directors when there were people like Annabeth who could receive my attention.

He deposited me into a chair next to the bed where the two girls were sitting cross-legged and playing with the pinochle cards. Sitting next to them was a platter of assorted muffins, and I understood that it was too soon for Rachael to be meeting the other kids.

"Percy!" both girls greeted me in different ways. Rachael seemed happy and grateful, while Annabeth went through her usual chain of expressions. First she was surprised and anxious, looking warily at me as if she expected me to blurt out something horribly embarrassing. When I just went on giving her a curious look, she relaxed, offering a muffin and pasting a smile on her face that was a bit too bright to be natural. I blushed, wondering if I'd said anything to humiliate myself in my tiredness the previous night. I turned to Rachael to hide my flushed cheeks.

"How are you holding up?" I asked, genuinely caring. The pale, lively, and day dreamy girl was growing on me. She grinned at me very brightly for someone who'd been told she was probably cursed.

"Just great!" She held up her now bare arm. "I mean, I know that whole curse thing is a bummer, but I feel safe from monsters for the first time in weeks. I'm sure whatever the Oracle tells me, I'll be able to handle it if you're there." Annabeth made a strange sputtering sound through her muffin, and I dodged an airborne blueberry.

I looked at Rachael's face, glowing with the same trust for me that I saw in Tyson's for his older brother. She had the palest, though not sickly, most symmetrical features of anyone I'd ever seen. Her nose wasn't red with cold like the first time we'd met, and she was in a weird place between average-looking and pretty. If she scowled, like she did at the Hoover Dam, then she was plain, but if she smiled, she tipped the scale greatly into lovely. Annabeth was beautiful even when enraged, though I'd learned the hard way that beautiful and terrifying and incredibly deadly could all coincide with each other.

I began to feel that Rachael was like the sister I'd never had. When she smiled at me that way, how could I do anything but smile back?

I just prayed that I could get this girl through her prophesy when I doubted I could get myself through my own in one piece.

**Plot Hint (I'm going to give these every once in a while): I'm fashioning Rachael's character as a PJO reincarnate of another figure from ancient Greek myth. Who, do you ask? Here's your hint: The Acis River/Pygmalion. **


	9. My Dream Hero Who Has Nightmares

**Rachael's POV**: I love switching it up, and I hope everyone else does as well. I just think it explains the story better, being inside all the characters' heads!

**Chapter 8**

My Dream Hero Who Has Nightmares

All my life, I'd always been a bit of a dreamer. It seemed as if my childhood and preteen days passed in a cereal blur with me being neither quick enough nor aware enough to keep up with its fast, efficient pace. One wealthy school to the next, a cotillion here and there, and a trust fund were all tools in ensuring my future at the end of the Yellow Brick Road. That future was undoubtedly a master's degree (which would become worthless once I was an appropriately married woman), a rich husband named Ward, and two point five kids, the youngest of which dubbed The Beaver. I was always like a puppet, and everyone around me seemed to control the strings. My parents in particular.

Almost as if it were in defiance, I managed to put a few dents into their carefully planned, perfect-daughter mold without even trying. I was grotesque at tennis, money and shopping did not appeal, and I insisted upon wearing my worst but most comfortable jeans and my father's alma mater sweatshirt. And, armed with theses clothes -the only real choice _I'd _ever made concerning my life- I wandered off again and again into worlds of books and of my own fashioning. My mother had always said I would one day lose myself in that imagination of mine, and I could never get why she thought it was a bad thing.

But I knew that all the things happening to me, though incredible, were real. I could feel the realness of it. As a little girl, I'd once cried my heart out to a small frog, demanding to know why some magic hero didn't come and sweep me away to a better place than where I was. Reality was always painful and lonely, and I became so in love with the idea of a better, unexplainable world of fantastic people and creatures -none unfeeling and indifferent like most human beings- that to this day I refuse to believe that that little frog couldn't somehow magically understand what that sad little girl was saying.

Just as I felt the mysticism of fantasy, I also felt the harsh sting of reality. I felt it every day of my life, including the day I met Percy, but meeting him cut a few of the strings tethering my spirit. I began to feel hope again. Those feelings of hope were strengthened when I crossed paths with a beautiful woman who believed in the magic of love charms. And when Percy and I met for the second time, albeit under dire circumstances, I knew that the final ties of my imprisonment -so like the silver, netted strands crisscrossing over my arm- had been unraveled. Here was a person who would take me away to a place where I could be free from petty mind games and the trivial pursuits of the rich. Here was the hero to take me somewhere even _I_ could not on my own imagine. I didn't even care if the place was filled with evil, as long as I could leave behind my life which was filled with nothingness.

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As she slapped down the cards, each time with seemingly more frustration and force than the last, I began to see that Annabeth Chase was torn between liking me and wishing I was gone. It seemed appropriate that we were playing War.

I had a strong feeling that her anger had something to do with Percy. She'd tensed when I'd expressed my gratitude to him for bringing me to Chiron, though Percy didn't seem to notice. A boy wouldn't notice a thing like that, normally.

He'd left with his brother, a Cyclops (not a whole lot of family resemblance), to send an Iris-Message (whatever that was) and eventually track down Chiron again to talk (most likely about me). That left me alone with a girl whom I didn't know anything about other than her name. I figured it was time I partook in my greatest talent: asking awkward questions. I got the essentials out of the way first.

"Thank you," I said.

"What?" she said, looking up, surprised. She must have been in her own little world. Funny, she hadn't really struck me as the type to daydream.

"Thank you," I repeated. "For saving my life." And I meant it. I was genuinely grateful. It must have showed on my face, for she looked much more self-assured and pleased with life. Something told me that Annabeth had deadly pride, and I mean _deadly_.

"You're welcome," she said, letting the cards alone for a moment. She'd been beating me savagely. I was suddenly intimidated by this girl who could strategically dominate me in a game of chance.

"How long have you been coming here?" I asked, gesturing around.

"Since I was seven."

"And here is…?"

"Camp Halfblood."

"And halfbloods are the same as demigods," I stated, remembering the conversation in the freaky, smoke taxi.

She nodded. "It's a place where halfbloods are trained to fight the monsters that seek us. It's a place where we can live safely and peacefully."

"Who is your parent?" I asked, becoming more fascinated by the second. I didn't need to specify: she knew which parent I meant.

She seemed to sit up a little straighter. "Athena, Goddess of Wisdom."

"And Percy's?"

"Poseidon, God of the Sea and Earthquakes." She stated matter-of-fact, as if I were asking what their parents did for a living. In a way, I suppose I was. I was amazed by it all: a Goddess of wisdom definitely explained Annabeth's intelligence and constant conservativeness. And Percy, being the son of a Sea God? It was almost impossible to comprehend and yet, it fit. Even to someone he had spent a few hours time with, he seemed mercurial by nature, and all his actions and reactions were constantly in a rush. Nothing could've been worse for him than being as still and transparent as water in a crystal glass; as long as he kept moving, he had purpose.

"Can he really make Earthquakes?" I asked.

"Not often. Sometimes, when he's having a nightmare, there's enough of a tremor throughout the whole camp to knock over a few tables and get the dust off the ceiling. It's never serious: the Ares cabin hasn't woken up once, and he has to be either very angry or an emotional wreck. Our friend Thalia, a former camper, used to do similar things with electricity and static when she came out of a coma that lasted five years. It's because they are the only ones with destructive manifestations of power." I gave her a curious look, so she explained.

"Most of our cabins represent their heritage through specific talents and personality traits. Very few, like kids of Demeter, actually have any literal influence on their environment. Zeus and Poseidon are by far the most powerful and dangerous of the cabins: not only can they control things like the atmosphere and water, but they can use them as tools for destruction when upset. More than once, a kid of those cabins has caused their own demise."

I digested this logically.

"It seems like, with all these problems, that Zeus and Poseidon wouldn't have any more children," I said. Annabeth nodded, very grave.

"You're right. Thalia and Percy aren't supposed to exist."

And I became ever more deeply drawn into a story of Gods, Wars, and oaths as the Sun climbed higher and higher into the sky.

It completely slipped my mind that the first question I'd meant to ask Annabeth was whether or not she and Percy had feelings for each other.


	10. Foam Angels Never Fade

Thanks to my beloved reviewers! You guys are amazing!

**Chapter 9**

Foam Angels Never Fade

Chiron managed to give me the slip at breakfast, as Tyson and I had arrived just as it was coming to an end. We were only there long enough to receive some greetings from the majority of the campers (excluding, of course, the Ares cabin, though Clarisse elected to ignore rather than glare at me like her siblings; apparently all the times I had helped her made me tolerable in her eyes) and for Tyson to consume a small breakfast (for him –it would've easily fed three people). Also, I'd had to send my mom an Iris-message beforehand to let her know I wasn't dead. Parents like to know those kinds of things.

I stared meaningfully at Chiron for the short period we were there hoping to catch his eyes, but he avoided my gaze like a master poker player. The only recognition I saw in his face was the way he seemed to fight a grin every once in a while. I couldn't believe he was taking everything so lightly, let alone finding it funny.

But then again, war was nearly upon us. Rachael's mysterious problem was like the division step at the end of a quadratic equation: it was an important but small factor in the grand scheme of things, and I seemed to be the only one who thought it needed immediate attention.

Just as the meal was winding to a close, Mr. D stood to make an announcement. He cleared his throat, unnecessarily, for every demigod knew to become vigilant whenever a God spoke lest they get turned into something creative.

"It seems we have another brat to add to your number," he said, sounding desperately bored. "She's unidentified and, thus, will move immediately to the Hermes cabin." He sat down as an interested babble broke out among the departing campers. Mr. D's briefness reflected upon the insignificance he felt that pertained to things like Rachael's name and age. But, his briefness also displayed a bit of tact. Rachael would move into a cabin that assumed she was a halfblood, for they had not been told otherwise, and shuffle into a background of halfbloods who were unfortunate enough to remain unclaimed. Everyone would think she was a member of that group: a girl neither similar nor loved enough by any God or Goddess to have her heritage identified.

I might have caught up with Chiron on his way to the Archery lanes, but Tyson grabbed me by my collar again and led me toward the beach.

The rest of that day was like the first vacation I'd had in years. We spent the entire day diving and chatting about anything or nothing. Sometimes, Tyson would toss me into the water, and it would erupt in a water fight that made the _Titanic_ sinking seem like a day at the car wash. Other times, Tyson told me about all the awesome things that went on in dad's kingdom, and I made angels in the foam as I listened. The best part about foam angels is if you're the son of Poseidon, they don't have to wash away. Another perk is listening to the sea inside shells; if you concentrate hard enough, you can pick up the frequency of almost any fisherman's radio. It was mainly a great deal of cursing and jokes that made me blush, but it's good to know when you have a talent like that.

We were tanning when Tyson speaking startled me out of a doze.

"I have a bad feeling," he said, looked very serious all of a sudden.

"What about?" I asked, worried at the sudden change in Tyson's mood.

"New girl," he muttered. I laughed, relieved.

"Rachael?" I said, shaking my head. "I think she's the least of anyone's problems, Big Guy. She's completely harmless." But Tyson grunted, still deep in thought, and wouldn't allow the subject to close.

"She has a strange smell… not monster, but still… different. I don't want her to put my brother in danger."

My response was to grin and tell him to relax; that I was perfectly safe or at least as safe as someone like me can ever be.

Looking back, I wished I had listened to what had seemed at the time to be a casual worry of my protective brother. Maybe if I'd listened, I would've been more on my guard. Maybe there wouldn't have been so much struggling and dangers in the weeks to come. Maybe less blood and tears would have been shed, and my friends and I wouldn't have suffered as much as we did.

But "maybe" is a pointless concept, one that will only cause pain and regret. It has to be let go, or it will fester into a wound that only death and madness can relieve. I _wanted_ to let it go, though...

…Because maybe, if Annabeth hadn't arrived at that moment to escort us to Big House to support Rachael in seeking the Oracle, I would have given greater thought to Tyson's words…. and maybe I would have realized the one thing about the Rachael Situation that could've disrupted the lives of everyone involved in it:

I was falling in love with the daydreamy girl who was very nearly a stranger to me.

**PERCABETH FANS: Don't panic! Stick with the story, if you get my meaning. There's still a great deal of story to go.**

**PERCHAEL FANS: You may now commence in the Dance 'O Happiness. **

**I'm sorry for being so sparing with hints of future plot events, but I like to keep people guessing! HINT: Can anyone think of a reason why Percy would be falling in love so quickly? If not, then look to previous chapters.**


	11. Annabeth's Bonk On The Head Means Pai

Sorry the chapter is so late! I became locked in a ferocious battle with end-of-year exams (all seven of 'em). Thanks to all who reviewed; you guys are truly amazing and inspiring, and I can't give enough thanks!

A whole bunch of you guessed right! Percy has, indeed, fallen in love with Rachel because of the love magic she carried with Aphrodite's diadem. Annabeth is Percy's real love, but how and if they ever get together is a pivotal plot path in the story. I tell you guys all of this because Percy is going to seem a little mushy due to the spell, and I really don't want anyone to assume the story has a caramelly fluff-center.

Who, or what, is pulling the strings? Read on to find out...

**Chapter 10**

Annabeth's Bonk On The Head Means Pain For Me

While the rest of us waited anxiously, Rachel made the lonely trek up to the attic which housed the Oracle. And, I have to admit, I was a nervous wreck.

I wasn't afraid that Rachel would lose her mind. She had boundless courage and an insightfulness that couldn't be compromised no matter the pressures, and I knew the true value of those attributes because they were the ones I valued most in my mom. No, I was more worried about what the Oracle would say about her future, which so far didn't seem to have a whole lot of prospects. Like the wisest person I'd ever met once told me, Knowledge isn't always good for you.

Everyone had their own individual way of dealing with the awkward wait. Annabeth tried to read the Odyssey for the six-thousandth time, but she was having limited success. I could tell because A: Her eyes weren't moving, and B: The book was upside-down, making legibility impossible for even the brainiest of demigods. Chiron read _Party-Pony Grando, _the centaur equivalent of _People_.

Most tense situations seemed to bounce off Tyson, but I suppose my own stressed aura was seeping into the air around his half of the couch (he literally took up a half), because he started to fidget and carve in-battle pictures into the coffee table. Tyson tended to be very in-tuned to my emotions at times, though his ways of dealing with said emotions were vastly different.

I tried to focus my attention on a wayward strand of hair that had rebelliously fallen in my face. It tickled my nose irritatingly, but rather than swiping it away like a normal person, I amused myself by trying to blow it back into place. I managed to kill five minutes like a pro.

Finally, after twenty minutes -actually, a rather short time for seeking the Oracle, but what else could be expected from an ADD teen?- we heard the banging of the attic door and stumbling footsteps. All four of us jumped up and reached the third floor landing before Rachel had even made it half-way down the steps leading from the attic. She staggered a few steps before falling into me, wide-eyed and ashen-faced. I held her as she leaned on me for support and gasped a few garbled words.

"Oracle… hippie mummy, in my head… swirls… I don't smoke, I-"

"Shhh…" I said soothingly, doubting for the first time as to whether or not her sanity had been maintained. After a few moments, however, she seemed to calm down. Her sickly pallor was quickly replaced with a deep blush as she realized how tightly she was hugging me. She stepped away, muttering thanks. I merely blinked as we all went downstairs to discuss a cryptic future. Normally, I would have been shy or embarrassed too, but the world was a strangely hazy place at that moment.

I noticed Annabeth was rubbing the bump on her head as we descended. As Rachel had rushed to hug me, I had seen, out of the corner of my eye, as Annabeth's arm slipped from where she had been leaning against a doorframe and observing the scene. Her head had bumped the frame slightly, and she had reemerged into view with her face positively steaming with anger. Towards the door, I imagine.

We seated ourselves in the parlor as Rachel recounted the prophesy perfectly, word-for-word. She spoke in a sad, sing-song voice that captured me almost to the extent that I didn't process what she was actually saying.

"_Wander, will five, within the walls weaved of fear_

_Displaced, will be a friend of a friend you hold dear_

_At the silent heart, will you forever remain,_

_To seal broken seal where the undying feed of pain_

_And one lost, within waits…_

_To purge a single soul through the ever-wailing gates_

_Into where the last War of Nightmares culminates."_

"Walls weaved of fear…" Chiron repeated to himself, as if tasting the words would make their meaning clearer.

"Does this mean a quest?" Annabeth asked. I hadn't even considered that as an option. Rachel had never had combat training and was in no way prepared for such an endeavor.

"Yes," Chiron replied solemnly, and he continued upon seeing the drop of my jaw and the beginnings of a protest. "But not for Rachel. Only a demigod can be granted a quest, and the Oracle, though even more difficult to decipher than usual, has most definitely described the path of such a journey. Rachel will stay by their side throughout."

"Who'll be granted the quest?" I asked, surprised by how obviously hopeful my voice sounded. I became distracted for a second by the pile of torn bits of a grapevine decorated doily that Annabeth was ripping apart. Her expression was oddly savage.

"I think that is rightfully Rachel's decision," Chiron said slowly, raising his eyebrows. We all stared at her, and she blushed at the attention.

"I pick Percy. He's already saved me once, and I trust that he could do so again."

I grinned at her, but that grin slipped off me face abruptly at what Annabeth did next. She stood abruptly, her chair screeching back, before stomping off towards the door. We stared as she stopped before the door, wheeled around, and stomped back to blow the doily bits in my face with a breath that would've put my hair in its place. She made it all the way to the porch the second time before returning to get her forgotten book, and then she finally stomped off the porch and into the night.

We all stared in stunned silence. All I could think about was the scientific possibility of a single bump upsetting a girl's sanity.

Then I wondered for the six-thousandth time if maybe all girls are just insane naturally…


	12. I Proceed To Blow Up The Cabin Phone

I know, I know, it's been forever and I do deserve to be shot. I only hope that those that enjoyed the story thus far might be willing to revisit again! Thanks so much to those who have reviewed, or just enjoyed, my stories in the past, and I wish you further enjoyment for the future!

**Chapter 11**

I Proceed To Blow Up The Cabin Phone

Despite my efforts to make amends, or even discover which piece of straw I'd used to break the camel's back, Annabeth had already stolen away into her cabin before I'd even discovered which direction she had run off. After encountering her taciturn brothers standing at the cabin door looking like a couple of cement lions in front of a Chinese restaurant, I'd had no choice but to wait and talk to her in the morning.

I staggered back to my cabin and threw myself onto my bed, but not before nearly impaling myself on a broken spear Tyson had accidently left on the floor. Some baby brothers leave box cars, mine leaves mortal weapons.

Even by my standards, I'd had what would be considered both a confusing and an emotionally trying day. So, of course, I'd had a nightmare. It was eerily similar to the last one I'd had.

The befuddling mist had left, but Rachel stood on her rock again, shifting anxiously from one foot to the other and watching the horizon with large, sad eyes. I looked as well from where I sat on my rock, but I could see nothing but lovely gray and blue clouds embracing a dull, nearly cold Sun. While unsettling, surely that was not any more alarming than the several yards of swirling black sea between our pedestals? The waters were strange and dangerous to me, and they had tried to claim me once; I was not going to risk swimming to her without first formulating a plan.

But my brain was muddled and catching on every other thought, as had become the unwelcome norm of the past few days. I sighed, wishing Annabeth was there, and knowing that she was always more than willing to reorient my grasp on reality. I nearly jumped out of skin when a hand placed itself over my own.

Next to me sat Annabeth, looking to me as she had when we'd first met. Her hair was much shorter, its natural bounce forcefully confined in a ponytail. Her limbs were just as strong but a little scrawnier, and her face had an innocent roundness that contrasted with the serious eyes that had always told me what she was feeling, if never what she was thinking. I noticed that I was younger as well, the tops of my ears cold because they were no longer shielded by my hair.

"It's almost time now," she said, squeezing my hand a little tighter. I had no clue what she meant, and yet I could detect the fear in her voice mingling tragically with acceptance. Her eyes were wide but dry, and her posture was relaxed despite whatever horrible thing I now felt was going to happen. The only indication that she felt any justified need for comfort was the way she clutched my hand, and I clutched hers back. I forgot Rachel completely in that moment, for it was just me and Annabeth, as it had been so many times before.

"I've forgotten something, something important," I said to her. I didn't ask what was coming, for I felt certainty inevitableness. But I wanted her to understand the regret and the remorse in my heart that even I couldn't explain.

"It's okay, it wasn't your fault," she said. She obviously knew what I was talking about, even if I did not. I didn't speak. I was suddenly unable to.

She was facing the horizon now, and I saw the shadows under her eyes normally adorned by those much older and more careworn. I supposed we looked like kids beaten by the world. Perhaps we always were.

And then it came. Even though I had been watching Annabeth's face, I felt the monstrous wall of water that sent me spinning too quickly and left me feeling crushed and broken. I could still feel Annabeth's fingers in mine, but they were being wrenched away from me with the weight of a thousand worlds. If I didn't do something, I would lose her forever, I knew.

I tried to form a bubble around us as I had when I rescued her from the Sirens. Annabeth needed air, and I believed that the water wouldn't separate or hurt us if I could manage a shield. I bent all my thought on forcing the water away, but it was soon crushing me as if I now supported the sky with my shoulders.

'_Dark… _Annabeth_… hurts.'_

'_Save Annabeth… it's my fault anyway…'_

'…_ANNABETH!'_

There was a massive explosion. The next thing I knew, I was lying on the floor, facedown, in Tyson and I's cabin, unhurt but completely overwhelmed. The floor was sopping and covered with remnants of our shattered fountain. I knew that to be because I could feel the roughness of a seastone remnant under my cheek, and it explained the water. It seemed to still be night, and I could see the drachmas glittering on the darkened floor, see curious faces of campers in pajamas peering in through the windows, and I could hear Tyson's surprised shouts for help above me.


End file.
